Easter Egg
by sockospice
Summary: The smallest thing can bring up memories long ignored. Mickey angst one-shot.


Title: Easter Egg (1/1)

Rating: PG

Spoilers/Timeline: Set around now, references Mickey's history but nothing spoilery

Pairing/Main Characters: Mickey

Summary: a reminder of things forgotten.

Warnings: mention of rape. Angst.

He'd only bought the easter egg because it had a free mug: he'd dropped one of his mugs the other day and broken it. It wouldn't match, but tea tasted the same whether it said KitKat on the outside of its container or if it was part of a matching set, and it seemed a bit pointless to buy a whole set of mugs just because one had broken.

The checkout girl had only been making polite conversation, but her question about who the chocolate was for had set him to thinking. He'd muttered something about a nephew and hurried away. For some reason, the question had reminded him of Liz.

It must have been something to do with the time of year. They'd got together at Easter time, when she'd shared a chocolate bunny with him during an obbo. She'd snapped off the rabbit's ears and offered them to him with a smile when he'd been moaning about being hungry, telling him about the young niece she'd originally bought it for and warning that he'd have to make it up to her.

He'd got her an easter egg the next day. She'd grinned and invited him out for a drink, and things had snowballed from there. Time had dimmed most of the memories, like a layer of dust obscuring the details: just a quick brush of the hand would make them vivid again.

On impulse, he purchased some flowers on the way out of the supermarket. They were thrown on the backseat of the car, along with the easter egg and the rest of the groceries. They weren't an afterthought, more of an excuse. It had been too long.

The graveyard was bathed in hazy spring sunlight, the grass damp with dew. There was a headstone now, simple but honest. The grave was a little overgrown though, and a knot of guilt formed in his stomach, although he knew his mum wouldn't have minded too much – she had never been one for gardening. He threw away the old flowers and placed the bouquet at the foot of the headstone, then brushed at the damp grass with his hands and sat down, relishing the peace and tranquility. He was always alone, but here he was alone with his thoughts and his history. Peace would come to him here.

Five years they'd have been married now, maybe six. They'd probably have had kids, and he'd have been in the supermarket buying chocolate eggs for them, longing to see the delight on their faces as they unwrapped the silver foil to reveal the treasure underneath. Ambitious and career driven as she had been, Liz had always wanted to have children. He'd never seen children in his future until he met Liz, but when they'd sat and talked for hours about their hopes and dreams, it had seemed to make sense. She'd reassured him that he'd be a great dad. He was unsure but he hoped that he would be.

It was easy to think about what might have been, but thoughts refracted through slivers of light and history turned things dark and destructive. Kids and a family were an illusion, a cruel fantasy. Liz had told him what he wanted to hear. When she stole those dreams from him she destroyed more than anyone else had ever managed – more than Delaney, Napper, even the hit and run driver who had killed his mum. She had stolen the future that he had invested everything in.

He'd never intended on falling in love with her in the first place. It had just happened, and it felt right. She'd been persistent and he'd been honest. He told her everything, and she had told him nothing, he saw that now. That vulnerability had scared him then, but he had needed her. Her voice had barely been a whisper as she choked back tears that rainy afternoon, but the reassuring words had been what he needed to hear. He wondered if those words had been genuine – her grief had seemed real, her compassion enduring.

He still hoped that her words had not been lies. There had been too many lies, too many secrets. But betrayal made a person wary. Once bitten, twice shy. Except it had been twice bitten. Mia had betrayed him too. He knew he'd played his part in that, but it didn't make it any easier to bear.

He stared at the words etched on the headstone in front of him. In a way, he was glad his mum hadn't been around to see everything that had happened. It was a comfort to know she would always be here though, to work through those thoughts that threatened the current stability.

He was growing up. He was starting to forgive. His dad had offered an olive branch, and he'd taken it. He had made his peace with Mia. He was no longer destroyed by the fact that he had been raped by Delaney. He was who he was and he was ok with that. Apart from that little niggle in the back of his mind that wondered what it would be like if that easter egg on the back seat of the car had been for his little boy or little girl.

He could never quite forgive Liz for taking that chance away from him.


End file.
